It's been four months since the COVID-19 pandemic erupted, forcing me to realize something has been brewing inside my soul for the past couple of years and that I, too, have been in the process of imploding. COVID is coincidentally a parallel circumstance to my emotional entanglements. The self-imposed isolation of the Coronacoaster era has propelled me to face more than I have ever been willing to.
As COVID made its' move into our lives, my family quickly packed up, left New York City, and headed to Long Island knowing that outdoor spaces, fewer people and more indoor space would be crucial to our mental and physical health. Four months later, I can vividly recall the sense of gratitude towards having an escape plan and more importantly, our health. I can also easily remember the constant confusion, feelings of loss of control, and the beginning stages of following my mind's journey into sometimes dark and unhappy places as I struggled to figure out my life purpose and goals.
I look back to this moment in the photo when I had the shore to myself, with no one in sight (or so I thought), and danced my ass off to Titanium and I Follow Rivers. I danced for my happiness, I danced for my fears, I danced for my rage, I danced for my resentments. I danced and danced... Looking back, I now know this was the beginning of a slow and steady unravelment.